It Feels Like Redemption.

Last night I fell asleep trying to tell myself that everything would work out all right in the morning. I woke up in the morning after a tumultuous dream and felt that everything most certainly would not be all right. In fact I wanted to spit on Fine Arts, on church, on everyone and everything.

But I started right, for once in a few months. I read a good chunk of Nehemiah, and amid the crowd of names and barely-started stories (the man who built a portion of the city walls with the help of his daughters. The man who built the portion of the wall directly across from his house), I found something resembling peace.

I'm so glad I helped down in kid's church today. There is something soothing about the simplicity of worship songs that started in super church that I can find nowhere else. We sang Shout to the Lord and the one chorus from Psalm 139... I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful - I know that full well. That chorus kept me going from one thing to another in the next few hours of meetings and ideas and stressful moments. My utter failure at ad-libbing during choir.

If that sounds bitter, it wasn't meant to be. In fact I would say that today was nice. I liked the fast pace. I liked the luxury of relaxing and talking with a friend after everything. I liked making people laugh.

There are many things I would've done differently - there always are. I am not regretting anything, though. That's why I am so content right now, I believe: no regrets. Just remembrances of the many good things sprinkled throughout.

I am not perfect, but I am loved. That, too, is why I can sit now and be content. Nothing more to do for the moment. I can take a few hours of rest and it can be healing, sitting alone in my living room, listening to a winter playlist and letting my thoughts roll around in my head. Perhaps I'll make some popcorn.